


Quiet Observation

by Enigmaforum



Category: Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oenomaus has a lot of thoughts, Prompt Fill!, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmaforum/pseuds/Enigmaforum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds that memories of the past follow him everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Observation

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own this amazing show or its characters. I am just a poor college student who gets a lot of enjoyment from watching this show. 
> 
> AN: Written for this prompt: Oenomaus can't help but make comparisons between Agron/Nasir and Barca/Pietros. He hopes their story as a happier ending in the Nasir/Agron LJ community. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> AN 2: Spoilers for the season all around. Unbeta’d for now.

He leaned against the pillar of the temple and watched as the men and women attempted to move, train, and breathe as one, as Donar commanded them to. His wounds yet prevented him from taking over the task, forced him to the side as Theocolese once had but it did not make him restless as the days of old had. He knew that he would heal, that he had a place, a duty when he was declared ready. There was no anticipation about what was to come, no disappointment from expectations that would not be met. Here in this moment he was _free_. He had _chosen_ to stay and fight, chosen as the free man he now was, and he would not betray the gift he had been given.

He would treasure it as he watched the group and took note of what he would need to take up with them when Donar relinquished the task. He could see the reluctance that he would have to quell, the uneasiness that he would need to train away, and the worry that he would have to temper within them all. They may not wish it, but everyone had to be prepared for the confrontation that was coming. There could be no other way with the weight of Rome barring down upon them.

“You must rest.”

“I must continue to train.”

A shadow blocked the sun from his face and thoughts from mind as he took in the sight of Naevia standing before the steps, hands on her hips with sword resting at her side, an eyebrow cocked as she took in the body she had deposited beside him. Oenomaus turned his head and found the subject of her grievance to be none other than Nasir. He looked defiant despite the fact that he was clutching his side.

“You are still recovering from a grave wound and I would not see it reopened and you on the brink of death again,” she told him. “I have seen the sight far more than I care to in this life.”

“Naevia,” Nasir reached his free hand out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder as she knelt down and batted his other hand away from the wound to press down against the cloth that still resided there. He hissed as she looked up at him, smug and worried at the same time. “I do not wish to make you suffer.”

“Then rest awhile,” she implored. “You are well on your way to healing but you must stop hindering the act by pushing your body to lengths it is not ready for.”

 “A fully healed body is more useful than one that keeps breaking,” Oenomaus added, Naevia looked up, her expression grateful. “You would do well to listen.”

“I find myself outnumbered,” Nasir sighed before he gave Naevia a small smile. “Very well I shall rest awhile.”

“The man finally listens to sense,” she teased. “Stay. I will retrieve new dressings for your wound.”

Oenomaus watched as Nasir gave her arm one last affectionate squeeze before she was out of his reach and walking into the temple. Oenomaus wisely waited until she was out of earshot before he turned his attentions to the young man beside him.

“It is best to give in when the women are concerned, a battle with them is one you will surely lose and find no help out of,” he advised, Nasir chuckled.

“You admit to fearing them then?”

“Any man who does not is a fool,” Oenomaus countered. “And deserves whatever punishment the women decide to deliver.”

Nasir’s face split into a smile as he laughed and nodded.

“I knew it was a lost cause the moment she noticed my steps falter,” Nasir began. “But to engage her in argument…it does her good.”

“You care for her,” Oenomaus observed.

“She has become trusted friend and sister,” Nasir replied. “I would help aide in the recovery of her spirit as we learn to fight together.”

“I will teach you both when I am allowed to have sword in hand once more,” Oenomaus responded. “And together we will see many wounds healed.”

“Gratit-” Nasir paused in his speech when the gate to the temple opened, tense for but a moment before the sight of Agron entering with Spartacus, and Crixus, each carrying a bow and arrow, fresh from a lesson with the weapon with Mira, caused the Syrian’s face to shift into a warm smile. The smile grew when Agron’s eyes landed upon Nasir and smiled in return.

The looks between the two of them screamed of echoes from a past Oenomaus both wanted to cherish and forget. He had seen the affection that Agron clearly felt for the young man bside him once before, echoed in the eyes of a brother. He had seen the enthusiasm in a young man who still had a life ahead of him. He had seen this road before and it had ended far too soon thanks to a man who was not fit to draw breath.

He watched as Agron gave Spartacus a passing hand on the shoulder before he was before the both of them, he nodded to Oenomaus as he knelt before the Syrian, his eyes full of concern. It was almost as if he had been transported back to the Ludus and was watching Pietros tend to Barca after a battle in the arena. But this was not the past, this was the present, these were not the men he had known.

“Your wound?” Agron asked as his fingers brushed against the dressings. Nasir winced.

“He pushes his body to limits it is not ready to achieve,” Naevia spoke for Nasir as she exited the temple, her arms full of dressings. “Perhaps you can move him to purpose better than I.”

“You are a fool to disobey her,” Agron murmured even as he stood and helped Nasir up with him, taking the weight of the man against him. “Come, let Naevia tend to your wound and then I will see to the rest you require.”

“I am outnumbered once more,” Nasir muttered even as Agron’s lips brushed against his forehead.

“Take it as a sign from the gods,” Naevia teased as she waited for the two men to make their way up the stairs to join her. Oenomaus let out a shuddering breath as he watched them go and take the past with them. He turned towards the sun once more and breathed in. Memories were painful to think about but a fuel to his fire and a balm to his soul to see that such a thing could still exist between two people.

“Troubling thoughts brother?”

He looked up to find Crixus staring at him and for the first time in a long time he found that he could answer the question honestly.

“None but a longing to return to a fight with honor,” he responded. Crixus grinned and held out a sword.

“Then you find yourself in good company, come,” he gestured to the sand beneath his feet. “Let us show this crowd what true champions can do.”

Oenomaus chuckled as he pushed himself off of the steps and walked towards his friend, no his _brother_ and took what was offered. He felt lighter than he had in ages. This was not the past, this was his future. He would avenge those that had been brought down by dishonor and hope that those he embraced as brother once more would get a better ending.

 


End file.
